6 In Here
by pjstillnoon
Summary: Vis unita fortior: "together we are stronger".
1. Chapter 1

**Teaser**

She gets to her feet so they're the same height and brings her hand up to the back of his neck, quickly pulling him into a hot kiss in which she is not ashamed to explore his mouth deeply. His hands tighten on her and she pulls him in closer with hands gripping the front of his shirt. She clings on desperately so she doesn't fall flat on her face with the dizzy headiness of his kisses. He matches her intensity, hands finding natural homes under her shirt in the small of her back and thick fingers twining through her hair. He gives a little groan, trying to press her closer, encouraged that she hasn't shoved him away. Her hands suddenly shift around the back of his shoulders, so they're pressed chest to chest, thigh to thigh, mouth to mouth.

Deep breaths suck in through noses as their mouths refuse to break apart, tongues defy disentanglement. Her hands, restless, find their way to caressing the back of his neck and as if in response, his move to caress her ear and the side of her face and down her neck, following a pattern only they know, while his hand in the small of her back smoothes back and forth as if he's assuring himself that she really is here in his arms; she's tangible and real and _here in his arms_.

He breaks, mutters her name (her nickname, there isn't time for more than one syllable), and then their mouths are worshipping each other's again in the sweetest heart-swelling way. She runs her fingernails along his scalp and he shivers so violently that it ricochets through her too. She gives a high pitched kind of, groan of delight, or moan of pleasure, or vocalisation of the excitement that is building within her chest. Her fingers slip under his collar and strokes down his spine, feeling along the stability of him. In response, his hand shifts to her ass, smoothing over her denim clad flesh to feel her veracity. And then after her enthusiastic response, his hands move all over her, taking in her hips, her waist, the back of her shoulders (he can't get near her chest, its pressed too tightly against him). He feels his way blindly, memorising her muscles and bones, the things that will feel differently once she is not encased in clothing.

She breaks away, manages a sigh of 'oh', before their lips are drawn back together like a magnet with a life of its own. Another searing kiss, but this one is slower, longer, drawn out into a satisfying ache. He's breathing too heavily to respond. But the kiss winds up into a slow caress and he almost sinks into her with longing.

"Emily," Cal manages between agonising kisses; his breath quaking.

Gillian pulls away from him. "You're right. Sorry." She huffs and breathes deeply and tries to catch her breath while studying his flushed face.

"No, I was going to say she's staying over at a friend's." He's cautiously optimistic, eyebrows raised in hopeful question, and Gillian looks him in the eye for a long time before slowly moving in close to him again. She watches his lips part in anticipation and his fingers tighten where they've finally come to a standstill against her neck and shoulder. It's almost like the movement happens in slow motion as she draws his head towards hers with firm fingers at the base of his skull. She keeps her eyes open to the very last second and sinks into him again as their mouths connect, acting as though they missed each other in those brief minutes they were apart.

And then a phone starts ringing.

Gillian pulls back startled and Cal looks bewildered. His hand reaches for his pocket. "I'll turn it off," he suggests.

"It could be important," Gillian rationalises.

"Humph," Cal half agrees. He checks the number on the screen, his left hand still petting the skin he can find around the collar of her shirt. "I don't recognise it." He presses the button to answer anyway. "Lightman?" He listens for a while and then his gaze fixes heavily on Gillian and his hand goes still. He goes still. And then rigid. He looks scared. "What do you mean? How is that even possible?"

Gillian's face falls into concern. She places her hands on his waist. Cal's left hand drops from her neck and he steps away. He starts to pace as he listens and Gillian wonders what the hell is going on, why he's so agitated.

Cal gestures as he talks, as he asks when and where, what the plan of attack was and what they wanted him to do. She impatiently fidgets with a towel on the bench, wanting to cut in but not finding the right opening, despite trying on several occasions. Cal hangs up and rubs his hand over his face, looking worn.

"Who?" Gillian starts.

"Brenda Ward. She's escaped custody," Cal tells her roughly.

**Opening Credits**


	2. Chapter 2

**Act One**

"What do you mean she's escaped custody?" Gillian asks shocked.

"Kind of a self explanatory statement," Cal says harshly as he puts his phone down on the counter. He runs his hands through his hair as he paces across his kitchen and gives a massive sigh. He stops midway and turns back to face her. "You meant 'how' right?"

Gillian nods soberly.

"Apparently she was slated for transfer with a handful of other prisoners. There was a fight and she just casually walked away."

"She can't just have walked away!" Gillian is incredulous. "In a maximum security federal prison?"

"Ah, well," Cal almost winces. "She was being taken to the medium security section. After spending some time in the medical facility. They thought she had made progress."

"In six months?" Gillian scoffs unimpressed. "No one as disturbed as her makes that much progress so shortly." She stops abruptly and her gaze is sharp on him. "Have you been keeping tabs on her?" It sounds like an accusation and it is one.

Cal looks a little flustered. "Just safer to know in which direction the storm is heading luv." He crosses to her again. "Should I have told you? You've had other things on your mind in the last six months."

Gillian takes a seat and looks up into his sincere face. "I have," she agrees. "Is that why you got a phone call just now? Someone is keeping you informed?"

"Yes," Cal admits. "But also. They want our help in finding her."

_The Lightman Group. Lab. Day._

"This is impressive," Loker notes as he chews his lunch. They're watching grainy security camera footage of a group of seven or so women in jumpsuits fighting with each other at the back of a van; their bodies lit into shades of grey by spot lights.

"Are we sure it's her?" Torres asks.

"Of course we are," Loker tells her. He hits a key on his computer keyboard and the footage freezes only for the other feed to start up next to it. "They only reported one escape, she's the only prisoner they can't account for _and_ this is the only evidence the prison has of an inmate walking out."

Torres gives an annoyed huff.

"I think it's safe to assume that this is Brenda Ward walking out of the prison," Loker finishes.

They both watch in silence as a shadowy grey figure walks calmly through an open gate. It's dark and as soon as she reaches the outer limits of the flood lights she disappears into a viscous blackness. The person doesn't hesitate, walk too quickly, draw attention to themselves. They don't look over their shoulder or around. They don't look up into the camera. Loker hits the space bar to freeze the image once the figure is off the screen.

"Really not clear who that is at all," Torres notes. "Why are we even looking at it? You can't see her face."

"Because Lightman told us to," Loker supplies lightly.

Torres gets to her feet. "I'm going to get coffee. You want to come?"

Loker shakes his head as she approaches where he's sitting. There is an open packet of popcorn next to his console and she snags herself a piece, popping it into her mouth while giving him a smile. He smiles back while he shakes his head, "No thank you. I've dosed up on caffeine recently."

Torres leans in and he meets her for a sweet chaste kiss. "Ok. Back in a minute."

_J Edgar Hoover Building. Day. Continued._

Cal and Gillian walk down a grey carpeted corridor. Gillian is dressed sombrely in a black pencil skirt and dark navy blue shirt. Cal wears his typical uniform: jeans, black shirt, boots and striped sports coat. They both look grim as they stride along behind their guide, a young woman in a power suit. From their shirts hang visitor tag I.D's. Cal lets Gillian walk slightly in front of him so when they're shown into an office he can put his hand in the small of her back to make sure she goes first.

Their guide departs now that they're delivered safely to their destination. From behind his desk, Agent Kevingston gets to his feet. He comes around his work station, smoothing down his tie, to shake their hands in greeting. "Of course, I wish we were working together under different circumstances. Brenda Ward is not high on my list of people I'd ever like to have to deal with again."

Cal's face looks grimmer.

"Please have a seat," the agent offers, gesturing to his guest chairs. Gillian settles on the left and Cal on the right. He slouches down slightly, unafraid to make this man's office comfortably his own. "At nine fifteen last night Brenda Ward instigated a riot between prisoners being moved to lower level security and then quietly walked out of the facility while the guard's backs were turned."

"How does that happen?" Cal asks. "Cos I thought there were locks on gates and guards guarding them. You know, proper procedure and all that."

Kevingston looks somewhat embarrassed. "It's not a common occurrence, but it does happen."

"How did the riot being?" Gillian asks.

"The prison staff are still working on that," the FBI agent responds neutrally.

Gillian looks slightly at Cal and he turns his head slightly towards her too. They're having the same thought at the same time. "We'll get someone down there to help," Gillian tells Kevingston.

He considers her statement for a moment and then gives a curt nod. Cal pulls his phone from his pocket and gets up to make the call. "We would certainly appreciate your help with the matter," the agent tells Gillian. "But unlike the last time, we would like to be kept in the loop."

Gillian knows exactly what he's talking about and that is clear on her face. "Cal might be unorthodox but his methods work. It was better to play her. She would have spooked if she thought someone was on to her or her game. She doesn't like to feel like she's not above everyone else."

"Are you recommending we try to play her again?" His question hangs in the air, a polite challenge as Cal approaches again and takes his seat.

Sensing the tension he flippantly quips, "What are we talking about now then?"

"The best way to handle the situation," Gillian replies to Cal while her eyes never break from Kevingston's.

"Might I suggest we find her and put her safely back in her padded cell?" Cal continues without missing a beat.

"Considering you were the two closest to her during her arrest we felt it might be pertinent to get you in here."

"Keep us on a short leash?" Cal antagonises.

"What kind of involvement do you want us to have?" Gillian asks with slightly raised eyebrows.

Kevingston looks from Cal to Gillian as if he can't quite believe he's being ganged up on. Finally, he decides on speaking to Gillian. "Obviously we'd like to make sure she's back in custody as quickly as possible."

"That means short leash," Cal turns his head to look at Gillian as well.

"So we would appreciate any input you could give us. But we are also not of the habit of putting civilians in the way of danger."

"That's new," Cal notes dryly with another quick glance to Gillian who appears to be in a battle of wills with the FBI special agent.

"Not even for the sake of catching a criminal."

"Unhinged criminal," Cal helpfully adds.

"You can work behind the scenes," Kevingston finishes. "Profiling and the like."

Gillian gets up, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "Let's go," she tells Cal abruptly.

Cal gives the agent raised eyebrows, an 'ooops what have _you_ done to get into trouble?' expression, then springs lightly to his feet and follows his partner out.

_Foster's car. Afternoon. Continued._

"I love it when you get all authoritative luv," Cal turns his head to watch her while she drives. "Especially with the authorities."

Gillian doesn't respond.

"Did he do something in particular to piss you off or are you just tense cos Ward is roaming the countryside?"

Gillian keeps her eyes on the road. After a beat she says, "How are we going to find her?"

Cal tsked her lightly. "Thought we were turning over new leaves with being open and honest with each other?"

Gillian's eyes flick to check the mirror and then she visibly relaxes. Her grip loosens on the steering wheel. "I'm tense because Ward is roaming the countryside."

"Carswell is a good two day hike from here," Cal tells her gently. "We've got time to figure her out again. And we've already got a head start them lot don't."

"Where would we start? Where would she go?"

"You'd be better equipped to answer that luv," Cal tells her as his phone starts ringing. "You're the psychologist, not me."

"Well," Gillian thinks for a moment while Cal digs for the phone in his jeans pocket. "I'd want to take a look at her treatment notes to see what kind of state of mind she was in last."

"So we'll make some calls when we get back. Yeah?" He finishes his sentence and answers the phone, letting the greeting run on.

Gillian looks over at him while she drives and the expression on his face makes her glance back and study him briefly while also trying to watch the road. They stop at a light and she notes that Cal hasn't said anything since picking up the call. "Cal," she prompts him gently.

Cal hangs up the call abruptly. "Well I don't think we're going to have any trouble finding her," he notes hollowly.

"Why's that?" Gillian asks not managing to keep her voice as steady as she would have liked.

"Because _that_ was Ward."


	3. Chapter 3

**Act Two**

"And?" Gillian prompts tersely. "What did she want?"

Cal speaks in a casual tone of voice: "Just to let me know it wasn't her fault, by the way, but was mine."

"What wasn't?" Gillian asks.

"Oh you know. The boyfriends. Trying to kill me," Cal keeps his tone light but Gillian can hear the tension in the words and she glances down to note his hand is gripping the car door tightly. The other is fidgeting with his phone, turning it over and over on its end against his thigh. "The light has changed," he informs her, turning his head suddenly to glance in her direction.

Gillian is staring at him, her face drawn. She faces forwards again and eases into the intersection.

_The Lightman Group. Evening. Continued._

"Inform Kevingston that Ward has made contact," Cal directs as he talks down the corridor rapidly, Ria, Eli and Gillian in his wake. "Then get down to the prison right now and talk to the inmates involved in the altercation at the gate. If she had a cell mate, I want to see footage."

"Ria, track down Lieutenant Benjamin King. Find out where he's currently stationed," Gillian adds, suggesting with that request that it is Loker they want to fly out to Texas.

The two junior employees peel off as they reach Cal's office so Gillian follows him in alone. They get half way to his desk before he turns abruptly and places his hands on her upper arms. "All right luv?" He peers into her face carefully.

"Yeah I'm fine," she answers lightly.

"Cos I know, with the exception of Heinzeman, who's preparing himself to take a long walk down a green mile in Maryland, safely under lock and key, Ward is the only other nutbar who got to you."

"And you," Gillian adds with a blink.

"And me," Cal finishes. He watches her face. "So? Are you all right?"

"I think so," Gillian admits. "If you're asking me if I want out of the man hunt, I don't. If you're asking me if she makes me nervous because she's psychologically unhinged, was escalating _before_ she was arrested and has a particular fixation on you..."

"Unfinished business," Cal supplies.

Gillian nods and sighs. "The answer is: yes she does," she finishes.

Cal pulls her into a comforting hug. "I'll be right here with you the whole time all right? Not going anywhere. Not taking any chances with either of us."

"Good," Gillian mumbles into his shoulder.

_Lightman Group Lab. Night. Continued._

"She appears to have been pitting the two biggest players off against each other basically since she set foot in the door," Loker is narrating. "And then all it took was one more perfectly timed comment about someone's mental state and their chances of survival on the outside and..." he trails off as they all watch the footage of the fight starting in front of them on the large screen in the centre of the room. "Bam, they explode." Spot lights spin to hone in on the women and prison staff rush over as fists fly, hair is pulled, legs swing in vicious kicks and bodies start to fall.

Gillian stares at the screen numbly while Cal slouches in an office chair looking board. Torres hangs up the phone at her desk. "Well?" Cal prompts immediately without glancing over at her.

"Finally got hold of him. He's on his way over."

Cal doesn't respond to her. "What about the cell mate?"

Loker shakes his head slightly. "Says Brenda never talked to her about anything. Said she barely spoke at all actually. Just offered her toothpaste once in the bathroom and an extra portion of toast at breakfast."

There's a pause.

"And I didn't see any signs of deceptive markers to indicate there was anything otherwise," Loker adds in a muse.

Cal sighs and gets up. "Gill," he says in a very neutral tone of voice and after a beat she gets up and follows him out as well.

The corridors are deserted and only half the lighting is on, on their floor. They don't speak until they get to his office. He closes the door and faces her. Neither of them say anything right then either, but something clearly passes between them. Cal brushes past her towards his desk but doesn't go to sit behind it. Outside of his office windows the city is black and decorated in the fairy etherealness of thousands of streetlights, taillights, headlights, spotlights. Gillian gives a little sigh. Cal turns back to face her, perching on the edge of his desk. He's uneasy, that much is clear. "My sentiments exactly."

Gillian approaches him slowly. "You want to..."

There's a knock on the door and the two FBI special agents walk in; Kevingston and Russo, both in dark suits.

"You got King then?" Cal asks straightening up and taking a few steps around Gillian to put himself between her and the two men.

"At this point Bethesda aren't willing to give out information about their staff or their work schedules," Kevingston informs him.

"Well isn't that helpful," Cal replies sardonically. "Are they not worried about a psychologically damaged serial murderer running around who happens to fixate on one of their doctors?"

"They have full confidence in the protection of their military police."

"Are they at least going to fill him on the situation?" Gillian asks from where she stands. "We don't know where she is or who she's going to go after."

"I thought you were sure she would go for King," Russo notes.

"Right now my best estimate will be that she'll either try to make contact with him. Or," and here she pauses and seems hesitant, as if she doesn't want to admit it aloud. "Or try and finish what she started with Cal."

Cal gives a cocky grin, rocking back and forth on his feet like he's proud to be the object of her obsession.

"What makes you think she won't run in the other direction?" Russo questions.

"Because Brenda Ward is controlling and manipulative. She won't be able to rest until she finished what she started. The fact that she didn't get Cal, that she was interrupted... that will eat away at her."

"She's had several months of treatment," Russo presses. "She got released to the middle security section of the prison because she had been making progress. She has changed."

"People don't change," Gillian states firmly. She felt Cal look over at her sharply but she didn't move an inch from starting Russo down.

_Lightman Residence. Night. Continued._

Cal unlocks his back door. He flips the lights on as he comes into the kitchen. There's a note on the bench and he crosses to read it. It's from Emily. She couldn't wait up and she has gone to bed. Cal puts the note down again as the back door closes gently behind him. He turns and faces Gillian who looks tired, worn and a little scared. He gives her a questioning expression as Gillian crosses the space to put her purse down on the island bench in the middle of the kitchen. "Long day," he notes.

"Yeah," she agrees with a steady sigh.

"Stay over."

She looks over at him suddenly. "Do you think that's a good idea?"

"We're both going to sleep better tonight if we're under the same roof." He steps closer to her and tilts his head a little to peer into her face. "I'm going to sleep better if I know you're not alone."

Gillian pauses for a moment. "And Emily?"

"She's already gone to bed," Cal indicates the note. He takes her hand that is still holding the handle of her purse as if she doesn't want to settle. "Nothing funny. I'm just talking about being in the same place at the same time." He pauses as well, this time to emphasise his point. "We've done it before. Plenty of times."

Gillian's face crumples so very slightly in her agreement.

"Why don't you go on up? There's a spare toothbrush under the sink."

Gillian raises an eyebrow at him.

"Don't let the Barbie's on it put you off luv. I was told it cleans just the same as the normal ones." He pauses again, this time with a slight glint in his tired hazel eyes. "It was meant for Em."

Gillian gives a slight smile and a little sigh, "ok."

"I'll be right up," Cal tells her as his phone starts ringing. He digs for it in his jeans pocket as Gillian starts to take a step away, her fingers still entwined with Cal's. It looks as though she is reluctant to leave him and within the next second she has good reason to feel that way. His hand grips hers and stops her from moving any further. She can hear a female voice on the line. Cal's face becomes more drawn as he listens.

"Where are you luv?" He asks gently.

By the sound of it, the voice gets more insistent and Gillian just knows who is on the other end. She moves closer to Cal, wanting to hear what is being said. Cal moves the phone away from his ear and puts it on speaker. Gillian is half expecting that collected and controlled honey-dripping gravelly tone of Brenda's but instead she is confronted by a panicked and hoarse voice; the voice of someone who is no longer in control.

"_It's your fault, it's all your fault. It wasn't me. You ruined this. I'm innocent. I'm going to fix it though. Don't worry. I'll make it perfect again_."

"Where are you darling?" Cal asks gently. "Why don't you tell me where you are? We can fix it together."

"_No. No. You ruined it. I have to fix it. It's your fault. You should know that. I'm going to make it better_. _Just you see."_


	4. Chapter 4

**Act Three**

"If you think I can just go to sleep after hearing that you've got another thing coming," Gillian paces Cal's bedroom. There are lamps on and the low lighting has Cal slumped on the mattress, his head resting against the headboard, his eyes so hooded they almost seem closed. But it is clear he's following her movement even if it is through half closed eyes.

"You're tired."

"So are you," she accuses as if this is a problem.

"You're no good to me if you're tired," Cal points out. "I need your brilliant mind to be sharp tomorrow. It's gonna be another long day."

Gillian stops and stands and stares at him. She takes a deep breath and lets it out with a shudder.

"What did you mean today?"

"When?" She asks him gently moving in his direction.

"When you said people don't change."

Gillian climbs on to the mattress and sits at his feet. She blinks a few times. "I didn't mean anything."

"You said it quite pointedly."

She places a hand on his ankle. "It wasn't directed at you if that's what you're thinking."

"I wasn't sure and I'm asking now for the sake of clarity."

"For the sake of clarity the comment wasn't directed at you. I was talking about Ward. And if there was some hidden sub-conscious message, then it was for Russo."

"To back off?"

"Yes, exactly," Gillian agrees. She gives his leg a rub through his jeans.

Cal watches her for a moment.

"You've been really quiet today. Are you okay?"

"Sure."

"You answered far too quickly for that to believable."

Cal gives a ghost of a smile. "I'm worried about this thing with Ward."

"Me too," Gillian adds softly.

"It's not going to end well, whatever happens."

Gillian gives a slow nod: her agreement.

Cal opens his arm abruptly and Gillian crawls partly over his body and partly over the bed to settle against his side in the middle of the mattress. She rests her head against his shoulder, her arm across his torso and his arm comes down to hug her close to him.

_Lightman Group. Corridor. Day._

Gillian walks quickly, her heels making a clipping sound that announces her pace as she strides rapidly towards the lab. She's in a grey woollen skirt and a red shirt. Her hair and makeup are immaculate but her face is drawn into a tight worried expression. In her hand is a thick red file. Behind her, Russo is following closely. Gillian pushes open the door to the lab, announcing, "I got it," and then withdrawing again and letting the FBI agent brush past her to enter the room.

Cal gives her quick acknowledgement and then goes back to watching the large screen in front of him. On one side is a map displaying the Eastern half of the United States of America. Where Brenda was being treated in Carswell, Texas, is marked with a red dot. The

District of Columbia is marked with another red mark. On the other half of the projection is Agent Kevingston, on video call from the J Edgar Hoover building. He's at the front of a group of agents, leading the briefing on a man hunt.

"The Lightman Group were involved in Ward's original arrest," Kevingston is explaining to the room at large. Loker brings Cal a file and he glances through it quickly before giving the younger man a nod. "And they believe her intended target is a Navy Lieutenant Benjamin King." As he talks the map changes into a street level of DC and nearby Maryland and Virginia. Markers appear at various locations, her old apartment, King's home, Bethesda hospital where King works, her gym, a few other places she used to frequent. The pattern is random.

"Carswell is a two and a half hour flight away," Kevingston continues talking. "But all airports are on alert. Her best bet it to make the journey by car or bus so we're looking at a twenty two hour window."

An agent asks how much of that time is left. Kevingston does a quick calculation in his head. "Ten hours."

"Are we sure she's going to come back to DC?" Another agent asks.

"Doctor Foster, who profiled Ward six months ago during the original investigation, believes that she will return to complete unfinished business," Kevingston answers. "Now King is married with three young children..."

Cal gets up from his seat suddenly and brushes past Russo on his way out.

_Gillian's office. Afternoon. Continued._

Gillian looks up as her door opens. "How's it going?"

"They're focussing on King."

Gillian nods slowly to show she understands. Her left hand lifts a page in the file so she can read what is underneath. Her right has a pen poised over a yellow legal pad.

"Russo came through getting that file," Cal takes a seat in one of the chairs in front of her desk. He doesn't quite slouch in to it.

"He did," Gillian agrees.

"And you?" Cal inclines his head. "What does her file say?"

Gillian almost scoffs. "That she was very sick and then got a lot better, very suddenly."

Cal raises his eyebrow. "She played the shrink?"

Gillian nods again. She looks up at the ceiling slightly as she says, "How else do you account for such a quick and seemingly complete turnaround?" She finishes by dropping her gaze back on Cal.

"I don't. Cos that's not my thing luv. But if you say that's not cricket then I believe you."

Gillian gives a slight smile. "Cricket," she muses. "No, I'm saying it's _not_ cricket."

"All right," Cal affirms. "So then where does that leave us? What did she talk about? Where's she gonna go next? Cos this is all you luv. I get to play later in the interrogation room." He gives a sudden grin and a wiggle of his eyebrows but it is forced. "You think it was her intention all along to get out?"

"Not sure," Gillian says hesitantly. "But she's not likely to sit by and leave things to chance. She makes her own opportunities."

Cal nods. "This takes a lot of careful thought and manipulation."

"It does," Gillian muses. "Six months of it."

"Do you think then she had some help?"

Gillian watches him for a moment. She drops the page she was holding. "I wasn't sure."

"If it's a hunch," Cal prompts. "It's more than what we've got now. With the FBI starting their focus on King..."

Gillian gestures towards the file. "It just feels like it's all too easy. She's a master manipulator, but even if she did a sudden turn around, she would not be able to get moved so quickly."

"So she had help," Cal decides. "You think it was her doctor?"

"Possibly," Gillian says in a musing tone of voice.

"Let's go talk to him then," Cal gets up.

_Aeroplane. Day. Continued._

"I can feel you watching me," Gillian notes as she continues to go through Ward's file.

"I was thinking..."

She waits for him to go on. "Yes?" She finally looks up.

"Ever joined the mile high club?"

Gillian fixes him with an unimpressed expression.

"I'll take that as a no," Cal answers himself. He pauses and leans towards her. "Now my next question would be, would you like to?"

Gillian turns back to the file, "Ignoring you now."

"Have to give myself some in-flight entertainment you know," he responds lightly.

"Still ignoring you," Gillian sing songs.

Cal gets closer, so his nose is just about in her hair. He hesitates for a split second, then kisses her temple.

"You know you didn't have to come with me, I could have talked to the doctor with Ria or Eli. You're supposed to be helping the FBI," Gillian tells him gently.

"And I told you, we're not separating on this case. I won't let you out of my sight. And I know you feel a whole lot better with me nearby," he murmurs against her ear.

Gillian has frozen where she sits. She turns to him slowly. His face is very close to hers. She watches him impassively for a moment then leans forward and kisses him sweetly. When she pulls back Cal gives her a grin and Gillian mirrors it, although at half the wattage. "It's nice to see you smile," he tells her gently.

"Have _you_ joined the mile high club Cal?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

_Dallas/Fort Worth International Airport. Afternoon. Continued._

They walk from the entrance of the airport to a rental car bay. They have no luggage with them and only Gillian carries her purse and the red file. As they climb into a silver sedan Cal's phone starts to ring. "Right on time," he notes. "All right Brenda luv? I'm a bit busy for chatting so thanks for letting me know I'm a plonker and all but I have to hang up now all right? You take care darling and we'll talk later yeah?" He disconnects the call. Then he looks up at Gillian. She seems a little stunned and he gives a slight shrug. "That's that done then."

_Federal Medical Facility Carswell. Texas. Continued._

Cal is carrying Gillian's red file as they walk down the inanely coloured corridor of the prison towards another security gate. They clip identification visitor passes to the front of their clothing. As a guard checks them over with a metal detecting wand, a tall, dark haired man approaches from the other side. He's wearing a white striped shirt, dark blue tie and dark trousers. His black shoes are polished. His hair cut is tidy and is starting to grey around his temples. Once they're allowed through the gate, Cal and Gillian shake his hand and introduce themselves.

"Doctor Charles Paxton. Come this way, we can talk in my office." His accent denotes the man is not a native Texan.

He leads them through a series of corridors within which it would be easy to get lost if it wasn't for the big red line painted down the middle of the floor pointing the direction in which inmates should be moving. Doctor Paxton's office is small and painted in some strange pastel green colour. His desk his mahogany and he gestures for them to take seats in brown leather uprights while he lounges back in a much larger black leather office chair. Cal glances over at Gillian once and it is enough for him to tell her that this office is a bit pretentious and he's already made up his mind that this doctor is a pillock.

"So what can I do for you Doctor Foster, Doctor Lightman? You said you had something important to discuss?" He leans forward on his desk in a business like way as he speaks.

Cal gets to his feet in one fluid movement and doesn't deign to answer the other man. Gillian does however. She sets her bag on the floor near her feet, the red file on her lap, her hand over it protectively. "We're here about a patient you treated recently, Brenda Ward."

Doctor Paxton looks immediately uneasy and leans away from her a little. "As I'm sure you're already aware she's no longer at this facility."

"Oh yeah we're aware," Cal notes amicably from across the room where he's perusing through the doctor's library. In the corner is a miniature palm tree. Behind where the psychologists are squaring off, is the space in which Doctor Paxton conducts his therapy sessions. There's a couch, a low table, a comfortable reclining chair and a box of tissues.

"I need to talk to you about her therapy sessions," Gillian plunges on.

"I'm not at liberty to discuss what happens between myself and a patient," is the firm response.

"I have your session notes here," Gillian indicates the folder.

"How did you get those?" Paxton narrows his eyes at her.

"We have friends in the FBI," Cal chimes in moving to lean on the windowsill. This puts him behind Paxton, who annoyed, has to move his chair back and to the side so he can face both of them at the same time. "And they're very interested in finding Ward before she decides to off someone else. So considering this is a Federal Prison, they decided to bend the rules of doctor patient confidentiality."

"Your case notes," Gillian pulls the doctor's attention away from Cal. "They show a remarkable improvement in the patient."

"She made remarkable progress."

Gillian glances at Cal. She noted the very obvious refusal of Paxton using Brenda's name. He was already on the defensive and by the expression on Cal's face, as if she needs the reassurance that he noticed, she can tell he knows this too.

"The medications you prescribed," Gillian moves on while Cal gets up and moves a few feet closer to the doctor. "She responded to them during the first phase."

"I found Ms Ward to be very receptive."

"I bet you did," Cal notes with clear innuendo.

"I'm not sure what you're implying with these questions," Paxton is suddenly angry.

Gillian let's Cal play the bad cop; a role she is quite happy to relinquish when he's around. He leans into the doctor's chair. "You, you blood wanker, messed up on this one. She got to you." He doesn't need to ask questions because Paxton's body language and face is enough of a give away without him having to voice it too. He shrinks back into his chair to get as far away from Cal as possible. But he shows shame and guilt and slight fear. He's trying to make himself smaller as he presses backwards. "Did she threaten you or was it more mind games?"

"I-I," Paxton tries and gives up.

"She manipulated you and you probably didn't even realise it," Gillian notes softly.

"Or did you know?" Cal's eyes search the doctor's face brazenly. "Did you know she was playing you from the start? So she sucked you in and before you realised it you were in over your head," Cal answers himself. "It's frightening looking into those eyes." He suddenly lowers his voice. "They're cold and unforgiving. It's like looking into a watery grave; a hollow soul." He straightens up and stands over Paxton, watching him harshly, not relenting an inch.

"Did you have any idea she was going to attempt to make an escape?" Gillian asks next in a matter-of-fact tone.

"No," Paxton shakes his head. "I had no idea. She was undignified by being in this facility. She wanted to be assimilated with the others. She seemed so utterly normal. When she first came she was a mess and then one day she walked through my door and was just... normal. And I figured she'd had a few days in a mental break and had come right again with the help of the medication and our sessions. "

"She played you," Cal points out. He moves away from the other man, taking a few steps back but not letting him out of his gaze yet.

"Y-y-yes I can see that now," Paxton swallows awkwardly.

"Who featured most in your discussions?" Gillian asks sharply, cutting through the hold Cal has over the doctor.

"Uh," Paxton hesitates.

"Was it King?" Cal prompts quickly, firmly, impatiently.

"No, her mother," Paxton answers. "She talked about her mother."

"What about her mother?" Cal asks rapidly.


	5. Chapter 5

**Act Four**

The elevator doors ping and open. Cal and Gillian step forward into the lobby, hand in hand. Outside the sun is starting to set and they share an easy companionship as they make their way home for the evening. They only get a few feet across the reception area when Cal stops and tugs on Gillian's hand. "You know what? I think I left my phone upstairs."

Gillian is a foot in front of him and her head is turned back to face him. She watches his face. "Ok," she says simply.

"I'll go up and get it and be right back," Cal tells her pointedly.

"Sure," Gillian agrees.

"Stay right here," Cal insists gently.

Gillian nods. "I will."

Cal lets her hand go and steps back wards into the still waiting elevator car. He pushes the button for the correct floor and stares at Gillian in a very intense way until the doors close to distance them. Gillian lifts her gaze slightly to watch the numbers glow in consecutive order as Cal goes up. The sound of the front door grabs her attention next and she is instantly startled by who walks through.

Brenda Ward.

"You," she speaks first. She looks a little like death warmed up. She's lost too much weight and it makes her face appear bony, drawn, hollow; ugly. Her eyes are dead and are lined in the dark marks of fatigue. Her blonde hair hangs lank to frame her face and shoulders. It has grown even longer but is no longer the luscious attractor it used to be. "You did this. It's your fault."

Despite herself, Gillian takes a step backwards, fear on her face and her hand slightly out in front of her in a 'stop' gesture. But she doesn't reach for her phone. Ward follows her but keeps the same amount of distance between them, just a few meters. She's wearing a grey long sleeved shirt and black sweat pants that are far too big for her. "I'm going to fix it though," Brenda tells Gillian. "You just watch me. You can be my witness," and she produces a knife.

Gillian observes her evenly and she is yet to say a word.

"My mother told me no one wanted ugly girls," Ward continues she grasps a fistful of her hair and hacks it off with the knife. Gillian looks uneasy. Ward grabs a hand full on the other side and hacks that off too. She throws the strands to the ground in disgust. "Ugly ugly ugly," she chants.

"Don't," Gillian finds her voice but Brenda continues taking random chunks out of her own hair. "Stop. We can talk."

Ward slowly stills her movements. Her gaze is fixed on the floor and then a slick grin creeps onto her face as if something has just occurred to her. "You can't take them away from me."

"Take what away?" Gillian queries.

"Them. You can't. I won't let you."

"Are you talking about King?" Gillian asks. "Ben?"

Brenda calmly finishes cutting her way through more hair and lets it slip through her fingers to the inverted halo of blonde on the floor around her feet. Gillian notes she's in socks and they are filthy black around the soles.

"You don't know anything about my Ben," Brenda tells her.

"Why don't you tell me about him?"

"You'd like that wouldn't you?" She sneers. "So you can steal him away from me too." She gestures with the knife at chest height.

"You mean Cal," Gillian says as if it is a realisation.

"My mother always told me boys don't like the ugly girls. They don't like girls who are smart. They want them pretty." She turns the knife towards herself and Gillian is startled enough to take a tentative step forward.

_The Lightman Group Building. Stairwell. Continued._

Cal powers down the stairs, his boots striking the concrete heavily and leaving large echoing booms in their wake. His hand makes a streaky sound against the metallic hand rail as he swings around the next corner and pumps his legs to just about fly down the next steps. At the landing he swings himself around the corner again, rushing to the door that will lead him to the lobby. He pushes on it and steps into a bewildering scene.

Brenda Ward, looking nothing but deranged, gestures at Gillian with a short curved knife. It has a bright yellow handle and the blade is about four inches long. Gillian is no more than six feet away and Cal makes his way quickly to her. "All right Brenda," he greets gently. "Put the knife down luv."

But Brenda doesn't seem to notice him. She continues to talk to Gillian and it's then that Cal realises that she's not making any sense. She's mumbling and muttering and it's almost as though she's talking to herself. Every so often she makes a wild gesture with the knife and Cal puts his arms gently around Gillian to force her to step back a few feet. It seems as if his touch is what makes her suddenly aware of him there. "Did you call?" She asks him.

"Yes," Cal confirms. "Did she come in like this?"

"She was coherent before."

"What did she say?"

"This is my fault."

"Funny I thought it was mine," Cal replies dryly. He lets Gillian go and takes a few steps towards Ward. She eyes him warily. "Darling, put down the knife."

"This is all her fault," she jabs the knife in Gillian's direction.

"Hey," Cal steps between them.

Brenda Ward gives him a glare and steps away. She walks to the door shaking her head in abrupt little jerks.

"I'm not even sure she knows where she is," Gillian murmurs.

"Got better, my ass," Cal notes warily.

All of a sudden she rounds on them, breathing heavily from the doorway. She seems suddenly quite in control. "I will make myself beautiful," she informs them, while moving her knife hand again, this time bringing it to her torso. She lifts her shirt and runs the knife along her stomach.

"No!" Gillian cries out in shock while Cal mutters something under his breath as he takes several steps towards her.

Bright red pools along the incision and Brenda gives a little sob. The liquid spills over her fingers as she makes another cut, seemingly at a random angle to the first. She groans against the pain. Then when she realises that Cal is getting close she points the knife at him. "You stay away from me. You've already decided you don't want me. Do you want me like this? Am I better now?"

"No," Cal manages shocked now at how quickly she's turned from this lost woman into the determined hardened shell he knew from six months ago.

Gillian's hands are on his shoulders pulling him back out of the way again. "She's not listening." Cal lets himself be led. "How far is?" Gillian starts to ask.

"Ten minutes," Cal responds quickly. "Already on the way."

"Do you think they're deep?"

"Hard to tell," Cal responds without having to ask what she's talking about. His gaze doesn't leave Ward's as they talk. "We should get the knife off her."

"Yes," Gillian agrees. "But how?" She pauses. "Without getting hurt."

"We can't wait for the cops to show up," Cal notes as Brenda takes the knife and makes still more cuts. "She's going to kill herself," he adds very quietly.

"She's not worth the risk of getting stabbed."

"I know that," he responds gently turning his head slightly away from Ward and the halo of red around her feet so he can also give Gillian his attention. "But I'm not a big fan of people bleeding out in front of me."

Gillian just swallows at that and Cal turns back to the woman in front of them. "Brenda, put down the knife darling. We can go get some dinner."

"Food makes me fat," Brenda responds.

"Let me take you home," Cal tries a different tact. "You can have a shower and clean up."

Brenda glares at him. "You'd like that wouldn't you? So I can be perfect for you?"

"Give _me_ the knife," Gillian tries softly. She steps up so she's beside Cal but with a little distance between them. "You don't need to change who you are anymore. You're perfect the way you are."

Brenda scoffs. Cal moves to the opposite wall in a bold move that has Brenda threatening him to stay where he is. "I'm just gonna lean over here," he tells her as if he is bored, as if he could give a care less.

"Brenda," Gillian tries to take the focus back. "Your mother is dead and gone. She can't see you now and she doesn't care. You don't have to listen to her anymore. She can't hurt you. She can't tell you you're not good enough."

Ward watches her for a moment. "She said my face reminded her of my father," and she makes a swift cut along her cheek. Gillian flinches and she can see Cal out of the corner of her eye straighten up again, no intention of standing by and watching this happen. There are tears mixed with Brenda's blood now. Her knife hand tremors slightly and it is too obvious that she's standing right in front of the door, the only way out.

Gillian takes a step forward and she can see Cal coil to strike in her peripheral vision. He doesn't have to say it aloud; she knows he's warning her to take it easy. And she would say absolutely the same thing to him if their roles were reversed. It was a delicate balance between trying to help the very sick woman in front of them and keeping themselves out of harm's way.

The dark shape of a person emerges from the night behind Ward. As it gets closer she is identifiable. She strides up to the door and pulls it open. Ward spins on her, a mess of blood and tears and the red blade of a knife. Wallowski pulls her gun a split second later. "Put the knife down," she demands.

"They made me do this," Brenda tells her in a sob.

"Are you two all right?" The detective asks, her gaze stabbing through Ward, her arms taught with the tension and weight of her gun.

"We're all right luv," Cal answers her sounding almost instantly relaxed.

Wallowski cocks her chin at Ward. "Put the knife down," she tells her again.

"Come and take it from me," Brenda challenges and takes a step towards the cop.

"Ma'am," Wallowski warns. "I am authorised to use this weapon," her voice is authoritative and not at all threatened.

"Gillian can come and take it from me," she suggests.

"Put it on the ground and kick it away from your body," Wallowski tells her instead.

"Or Cal," and Ward turns towards him.

He hesitates.

"Stay where you are," Wallowski orders him sharply. Cal raises his hands in a sign of parley. "I'm not going to tell you again," she speaks to Brenda, who her eyes have never left.

"I see you don't have any backup," she notes casually and it's like she's back and under control again. Her voice is that liquid smoothness.

"I will subdue you if you do no cooperate," the detective is unperturbed.

"So come and get the knife and I'll cooperate," Ward suggests.

This is where Wallowski hesitates. She lets her arms drop slightly from pointing the muzzle of the gun at Ward's chest.

"Don't," Cal warns.

"She's going to do something," Gillian adds almost simultaneously.

And in the seconds it takes them to get those words out Brenda throws the knife at Gillian, while Cal leaps towards Brenda who lunges at the officer and a shot is fired.


	6. Chapter 6

**Act Five**

A blur of noises, voices, static, radios. The flashing of lights, red and blues, flashlights. People rushing towards them, around them, away from them. Gillian leans over Ward, her hands plugging the hole in her stomach.

"Gill," Cal pulls her away with bloodied hands of his own. "It's over."

_7__th__ St NW and Mount Vernon. Evening. Continued._

Gillian sits on the back step of an ambulance. A paramedic finishes taping a bandage to her arm. There's blood on the front of her shirt but her hands and arms have been washed clean. Cal approaches quickly. There's blood on him too but his hands are also clean now. He takes her hand, strokes her cheek with the back of his, gazes at her softly. "You all right luv?"

"Yeah I'm fine," Gillian responds genuinely.

"Is it serious?" He holds her hand reverently.

"It's barely a scratch."

Cal doesn't look convinced.

"Would you like to take a look?"

"Later."

Wallowski approaches. "You guys can go home," she informs them. There's evidence of blood on her clothing too.

Brenda Ward has left a wake of red.

"Can we do anything else?" Gillian asks.

"No we've got your statements and everything's caught on the lobby cameras so..." the other woman trails off. "It's pretty much clear what happened."

"Are you all right?" Cal asks the detective.

"Sure you know," she gives a shrug and a wan forced smile. She turns to Cal. "Make sure you put your gun back in your safe before you leave," and walks away again.

"Hey Sharon," Gillian calls her back.

"Yeah?" She spins on her heel.

"Thank you."

"Sure," she gives a self-depreciating shrug.

"Let's take you home," Cal guides Gillian by the shoulder.

"But first you put your gun back in your safe," Gillian tells him.

"Yeah yeah," Cal replies adjusting it in the waist band of his jeans in the small of his back.

_Lightman's House. Evening. Continued._

"Since when did home mean your home?" Gillian teases lightly as they pull up.

Cal looks over at her. He's serious. "Were you scared?"

Gillian turns her head to face him. "Sometimes. But I didn't think she would actually hurt either of us. Right up until the last minute anyway."

"It killed me leaving you there with her."

"You had to go and make the call," she places her hand on his knee. "It was the right thing to do."

"She was out to get herself killed..."

"One way or the other," Gillian finishes.

Cal nods. "This was different for us."

Gillian raises an eyebrow, and invitation for him to continue speaking.

"Being in on the con together," Cal gives a gesture with his hand.

"Not that it turned out quite how we planned."

"Couldn't account for her showing up with a knife," Cal explains.

"Absolutely not," Gillian agrees.

"Hungry?"

"Not really."

"But you're not gonna leave right? You're gonna stay with me? For a little bit."

"Sure," Gillian replies.

"Can't get enough of me," Cal adds under his breath as he ducks out of his door. They go inside. Cal flips lights on and places the jug on the gas to make tea. He explains that Emily is out at a friend's place. "And by friend I mean boyfriend."

"Oh?" Gillian queries taking a seat at the breakfast bar and placing her purse on the bench beside her. "This is new. And you said that without any physical signs of discomfort. I'm impressed."

"Yeah," Cal answers either comment with a slight grin, facing her while leaning against the bench. "As of last week. With everything with Ward going on I forgot to tell you."

"What's his name?"

Cal thinks for a moment. "No idea. She told me."

"But you had other things on your mind," Gillian finishes. Cal approaches suddenly and takes her arm. He pushes back her sleeve to reveal the bandage. He peels back the tape and Gillian lets him. "Have you met him?"

"Not yet," Cal mutters while working on removing the bandage.

"Ow!" Gillian complains when the tape pulls the hairs on her arm.

"Sorry," Cal murmurs.

"She spends a lot of time out," Gillian notes gently.

"I think it's to get away from me," Cal muses lightly, glancing up to give her a slight smile before turning his attention back to the last binding. "You know, cos usually she's at her Mum's and we just see each other a few days during the week. We used to," Cal corrects quickly. "But in this case, I didn't want her to be alone after school." He gives a shrug. "Just in case."

Gillian nods. Cal removes the bandage and they both study the graze on her arm and it is literally that, a graze. Its several inches long and not deep at all. Cal seems to visibly relax. "It's nothing," Gillian points out the obvious.

"Want a plaster?"

Gillian looks up at him with a little frown.

"A band aid?" Cal corrects.

"Sure," Gillian responds. He disappears and comes back a minute later with a first aid kit. "How is Emily doing? I haven't seen her in a while."

"Picking out colleges."

"Ah," Gillian acknowledges that it's a big deal while Cal puts some sort of cream on her arm. "Does she know where she wants to go?"

"Berkley," Cal answers quickly.

"That's a long way away."

"It is," he responds lightly measuring out a length of band aid.

"And you're not ok with that?"

Cal cuts the strip to the correct length. "It's a long way away," he responds looking over at her.

Gillian gives a slight nod. She understands. And it was different when Emily talked about going to school in California before. Now with her mother gone, Cal's responsibility for her had compounded. He pulls the tabs and sticks the plaster down on her arm gently and then moves away to put the rubbish in the bin. Gillian gets up and crosses to where he is leaning under the sink while tugging her sleeve down again. When he straightens up she places her hands on either side of his face and kisses him. Cal's arms immediately wrap around her waist, drawing her close against his body as they kiss tenderly. When she pulls back she gives him a little smile. "Let's go upstairs."

Cal's eyebrows go up. "You sure about that?"

Gillian steps away, taking his hand with her. "I just want to forget all of it. I want to record new memories over these days."

"Now that sounds like a very good plan," Cal tells her in a low voice. "But first." He leans over and switches the gas off, then he follows her, or allows himself to be led up the stairs and down the hall to his bedroom. He pushes the door closed behind them and flips on the light switch causing the lamps to come on on either side of the bed. "Your phone's turned off right?" Cal asks her gently.

"It's downstairs in my bag," Gillian responds with a grin.

"Perfect," Cal says as Gillian tugs him into her embrace and they kiss again as he walks her backwards across the room. She pulls his shirt off over his head and throws his hair askew. His mouth finds hers easily as they move, his hands smoothing under her shirt into the small of her back and up further to her ribs. She shivers suddenly, flinching.

"Sorry," Cal murmurs. "Is it?"

"My scar," she reminds him gently.

"Did I hurt you?" Cal finishes concerned, his forehead just about resting on hers, but his head far back enough that he can look her in the eye without losing his focus.

"No. It's still sensitive that's all," Gillian answers him breathlessly.

"I'll be more careful," he volunteers in a whisper.

"Good," she tells him with a smile. He grins back at her. Her hands start unbuttoning her shirt and so he pulls back further to watch while he kicks his shoes off and toes away his socks. She lets her hands fall away from the material once the fastenings are undone and looks over at him, challenging him. Cal reaches his hands up slowly to reverently reveal her chest and torso. He drops his head to kiss her collarbone and Gillian gives a self satisfied sigh. Cal's hands move to her shoulders to push the material away and she shrugs out of it at the same time. "Wait," he pulls back slightly to look her in the eye.

"Wait?" Gillian looks alarmed.

"Before we do this, before it goes further than this," and he gestures with his hand between them, his palm facing the floor, as if he means that particular spot on the carpet.

Gillian looks at him, blinking in confusion and breathing heavily. She looks unsure now and her eyes flicker towards the door.

"I want you to know," Cal continues to speak tenderly, his hands on her shoulders. "That I love you too."

Gillian blinks in surprise.

"I love you," Cal repeats.

"I love you," Gillian murmurs reverently. Their mouths meet again and they're moving in the same direction. They get closer to the bed, hands smoothing over bare skin, exploring, delighting, memorising. "Gill?"

"Yes?" She breathes at him.

"I liked us being on the same page with this case."

"Me too," she whispers, her breath already heavy as Cal kisses her neck.

"But."

"But?" She queries pulling away slightly.

"What about the things I did? To you."

"It doesn't matter anymore."

"I don't even know what I did wrong," Cal almost implores, his hands still on her waist. He stoops his knees slightly to look her in the eye.

Gillian draws his head closer and kisses him. "It was never anything specifically."

"It was that I was careless?"

"Yes," she kicks away her shoes

"With you and my own life."

"So you _do_ know," she tells him lightly, smoothing her hands over his shoulders, over the tattoos on his right arm.

"It got easier to be careless after Zoe died."

"I know," Gillian caresses the side of his face and his hair, her fingers smoothing, comforting.

"I got confused about a lot of things."

"Me too," she tells him as if it's ok, normal, that she's not judging him.

"You give me a reason to be. You and Em. My girls."

Gillian hesitates and looks him in the eye, watching his face intently and seeing the sheer sincerity displayed on his features. "Do you know why I told you I love you?"

"Hopefully cos it's true," he gives her a familiar cocky grin.

"It is," she gives him a slight smile and her hands caress a path down his chest now. "But I also realised, you needed to hear it. You were just as insecure about 'us' as I was. You need reassurance that I'll be here for you just as much as I need to know you'll be here for me. I need to know you're not going to hurt me just as much as you need to know I'm not going to hurt you."

Cal leans in closer to her again, having to drop his head even further to see her now her heels are out of the equation. "I won't Gill." And then he presses his lips against hers. They kiss again, slow and careful but sweet and passionate.

"I waited and waited for you to make your move."

"I was working on it," Cal responds indignantly as he moves to kiss her neck again.

"I could see you lining up all these different elements, these different pieces. I waited for you to put them all into place. But you got stuck. They didn't quite line up."

"I," Cal gazes at her intently.

"So I figured maybe you needed me to meet you half way," she gives him a slight shrug. "So that everything would fall smoothly into place."

"Like dominos," Cal whispers, his face mere inches from hers.

"Sure," Gillian gives a slight smile. "It is a two person game after all."

"The best ones are," he nuzzles into her neck with his nose. "I've waited so long for us to finally do this."

"I hope this lives up to expectations then."

"It will. You always do. You've never let me down. Ever. I was so proud of you. This whole thing with Ward. You didn't let it get to you and you nailed the profile again. You knew she would come and she did."

"I underestimated."

"No, you did perfectly." He kisses her.

"I was proud of you too," Gillian adds tentatively.

"Yeah?" Cal asks her with a slight grin.

"Yeah," Gillian nods and she doesn't need to tell him why because he knows and she denotes what she can't say in the expression on her face.

They lower themselves to the mattress. Kissing and caressing, exploring and delighting. Cal gives little hungry groans as he presses his body along the length of hers and continues to kiss her lips, jaw, neck, collarbone and chest. Gillian's hands feel down his back and then over his ass. She gives it a squeeze and hooks her leg over his hip, forcing him closer against her body. Cal gives another groan as he kisses around her ear.

"Mm," Gillian agrees. She moves her hands around to the front of his trousers and slips them between their bodies.

"Ohh," Cal breathes. "That's fantastic." Gillian looks up into his face in quiet confidence and he looks down at her in wonderment. "I've wanted you for so long."

"I know," Gillian replies softly. "Me too."

"Is that so?" Cal asks gently drawing her into a kiss.

"Yes," Gillian pants at him.

Cal gives another groan. He kisses her again, easily leaving her breathless. Then shifts to kiss heavily, hotly, hungrily down her chest, pulling away from her hands and smothering his mouth over her torso. Gillian's breath comes in harder. She tugs him up towards her so she can press her lips against his and pushes him back so he's standing on the bedroom floor. She hooks her legs around the back of his knees as she sits up and looks up at him as she actually undoes the button of his jeans and the fly this time.

Cal looks down at her intently, watching her face as she pushes his jeans and underwear down over his butt and thighs. Her eyes widen ever-so-slightly as she reveals all of him to her. Cal's hand runs through her hair, combing through the smooth strands. His grip tightens on the back of her head as she presses her hot mouth against him. "Oh god," he murmurs enjoying it for several long minutes. Then he gently pulls her to stand by her elbows while he kicks out of his jeans. "Your turn," he tells her and reaches for the button and fly on her trousers. Gillian's hands grip his forearms and her gaze observes as he works. He watches her chest rise and fall, still encased in her lilac bra. Cal pushes his hand down the front of her pants as soon as they're open and Gillian's grip tightens on him suddenly while she convulses and lets out a heavy sigh. Her eyes close as her head falls back, her hips rock gently and she fights to regain herself again. Cal's other hand pushes and tugs her trousers down over her hips and thighs until they pool around her ankles, while his other hand continues to explore and his lips find their way to her exposed neck. She gives a little moan and then suddenly pushes him backwards.

Cal looks surprised. "Sit," she instructs sharply and guides him to the bed with forcible hands on his wrists. He drops to the edge of the mattress and she steps out of her clothing to straddle across his lap. She pulls his head into a searing kiss. His hands automatically cup her ass while hers reach behind to unclasp her bra herself. She pulls it down her arms and throws it to the side.

Cal pulls back to study her chest blatantly and Gillian waits, patiently, her hands on his shoulders as he takes her in. His hands move from her rear end to her chest, one on each breast and she gives a little shiver as he touches her expertly, but gently, almost reverently. "Oh Cal," she whispers and his mouth falls to her neck again. Her hands skate over his skull firmly and she clings on to his head, hugging his face to her body as her eyes close again. She grinds her hips against him and he gives a returning growl. He wraps his arms around her back and stands. His arm drops lower to support her weight and she hooks her legs tightly around his hips. He turns them and half pulls back the covers before lowering her to the bed. Gillian squirms and shifts so the blankets are not bunched up behind her. When she settles, Cal is already leaning over her. He brushes hair out of her face and her hands come to rest on his shoulders and for a moment they just look at each other.

And then she pulls him down for another hot and wet kiss. She draws him close against her body, her arms folded along the back of his shoulder blades. Cal shifts so he is between her legs. He pulls her right one up to his waist, smoothing his hand down the back of her thigh while she squirms against him, her hips pressing up off the mattress. She gives a groan as his hand continues to find its way around her thigh to her hip, up her waist, over her breast, to cup her jaw as their kiss takes the breath out of the both of them. Then it finds its way to the covers and Cal pulls them up over his back.

He rocks against her slowly and she presses her head back into his pillow. "Yes," she whispers, almost hisses as if it is painfully delightful. Cal drops his head to kiss her, his weight balanced on his right hand, the other still freely roaming her body. Gillian's hands press into the back of his head, roughing his hair in the other direction as they move together at an agonisingly slow but steady pace. When they're out of air Cal presses his forehead against hers. He watches her closed eyes, just millimetres away from his; her pupils dance beneath the surface. Her hands alternate between his shoulders and arms, his head and neck. Then one gets bold and drops beneath the covers and Cal flinches at her touch.

"Cal," she breathes his name but it's like she doesn't have the coherent thought to get any other words out. Her jaw quivers and she struggles and then she just gives up and opens her eyes to look up at him. Cal kisses her again but this is much shorter as their rhythm slowly increases. Gillian's lungs work overtime getting oxygen to her muscles and Cal watches her swollen lips, her open mouth, the heave of her chest.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs.

"You feel so good," she returns with a sharp intake of breath as he hits a spot that ricochets pleasure to prickle over her scalp. She gives a little 'oh' and her fingers tighten against his flesh. Cal strokes that spot again and she starts tremoring; encouraged he does it a third time and her entire body's quivers become pronounced and an exquisite expression creases her face as she grips him tightly, clings on desperately, as she succumbs to how he makes her feel. She gasps for air and whimpers and closes her eyes and pushes back her head into the bed as Cal continues to caress her without breaking his stride. And then he is the one shaking and muttering sounds and half words and gasped air.

"Gillian!" He manages before dropping his head to her sternum as the bulk of his pleasure runs rampant throughout his body. He cusses into her chest as he quivers violently for a moment. As he starts to calm he shifts his weight and turns over, making sure he pulls her along with him, so that she ends up draped across his chest as the last rolling waves shock through her in little fits of spasming muscles. He caresses her hair as he catches his breath and swallows heavily against a dry throat. After a long moment she seems to come back to life. She shifts slightly, making the both of them more comfortable.

"Wow," she breathes.

"Thank you very much," Cal responds lightly.

Gillian kisses his chest next to where her mouth rests and turns her head to face him. She gives him a slight smile while her eyes glitter severely. "I'll let you have that you smug bastard cos you earned it."

Cal gives her a grin and her smile broadens. She shifts further up his body so she can kiss his lips. "That was..." she pauses while she searches for the word, her chin resting on his chest. "Wow," she finishes with.

"You're wow," Cal responds. "And I don't even care how hokey that sounds coming out my mouth right now."

Gillian's smile is genuine. "Neither do I."

Cal's hand smooths down her bare back. The other shifts to tuck behind his head to lever his gaze up. "I can't tell you how glad I am that we finally took the last step together."

"Me too," Gillian gives a content sigh. "So glad," she adds with a contented groan as she turns her head to listen to his heart beat.

"No regrets then?" He sounds purposefully light, like he's trying too hard to be nonchalant.

"None at all Cal," Gillian tells him firmly, closing her eyes with another smile.


	7. Chapter 7

_AN: Lie To Me Lives On! (I don't care that it's probably still Monday for the rest of the world, for me it has just gone midnight and it is now officially Tuesday!)_

**Act Six**

Gillian lies against Cal's side. Her arm over his torso, her head against his shoulder. Cal has his arm around her and is suddenly woken by the bang of a door. He waits a beat and hears a voice call out. He shifts away from Gillian carefully and she gives a little groan. "Don't leave," she mumbles.

"Be right back," he whispers and tucks the covers around her again as she turns further on to her stomach in the middle of the bed.

Cal powers down the stairs while he pulls the t-shirt he'd found on the bedroom floor over his head. He emerges into the kitchen in his jeans to find Emily on the opposite side of the bench. "Oh hey," she gives him a smile in greeting. "I wasn't sure if you were home."

"Yeah. I'm uh home," Cal responds.

Emily narrows her eyes at him as he comes around the bench. "Were you asleep?"

"Yeah," Cal admits quickly.

"It's a bit early for bed don't you think?"

"Quick confession," Cal ignores her question. Emily raises her eyebrows in interest. "Gill and I are together. As a couple. Actually... together."

Emily's eyebrows go further in surprise. "Are you kidding me?"

"No."

"That's great news Dad!" Emily cuts off his short answer with her excitement.

"Shh," Cal indicates she should be quiet.

"Is she upstairs right now?" Emily quickly jumps to a conclusion.

"Yeah," Cal nods with a slight smile.

"Dad!" Emily gives his upper arm a quick punch. "No sleepovers!"

"That rule was for you missy," Cal retorts.

"I'm kidding you. That's so awesome! I'm really happy for you Dad! And Gill. Say hi for me," she reaches for his car keys that she had placed on the bench earlier.

"Wait, where are you going?" Cal follows her as she starts to back up towards the door.

"I'm gonna go out. Catch a movie. So you guys can talk or you know," she gives a shrug and a cheeky grin. "Whatever."

"Oi," Cal reprimands lightly.

"Oh come on, I'm not five. I can figure out what you were up to this evening."

Cal rolls his eyes. "You want to know what happened with Ward?"

"Yes," Emily answers quickly, interested and stops moving towards the door. She leans against the wall in front of the exit. "Is it over?"

"Yeah it's over," Cal responds.

"Not a good ending though," Emily observes.

"No," Cal shakes his head.

"But you were right about her going after Gillian after all? Because of her female authority issues?"

"Yep," Cal agrees.

"Are you both all right? I mean, she didn't hurt you or anything?"

"No I'm fine. Gill got a tiny scratch."

"And Ward?" Emily asks quickly on the tails of his sentence.

"Wallowski shot her."

"I hope with good cause."

"Yeah she had good cause," Cal agrees glumly.

Emily's hand reaches out to his arm and she gives it a squeeze. "You can't solve everything the way you want to you know."

"You sound a lot like Gillian," Cal notes with narrowed eyes.

"Speaking of which. You better get back upstairs before she wakes up and finds you gone."

"When did you get to be so bloody...?" Cal searches for the word.

"Smarter than you?" Emily pushes off the wall and straightens up. "Better looking?"

"Oi," Cal responds sharply as he starts to follow her again.

"Grown up?" Emily tries.

"That."

Neither of them have to say when. They both know.

"So working a con with Gillian wasn't that much of a success?" Emily almost sighs as if she is disappointed.

"No, actually, it did," Cal corrects her optimistically. "It was the rest of it that went south."

"Well you know, don't beat yourself up about it too much. Some people are intent on dying and it doesn't matter how they go about it."

Cal gives her a little frown. She gives a shrug as she explains, "You told me that once."

"Don't stay out too late," Cal tells her softly.

"Just the movie," Emily reassures him. "Then straight home."

Cal waits for the door to close behind her and then scuffs up the stairs again in his jeans that are slightly too long for him now that he doesn't have shoes on. He pulls his shirt off as he pads down the hallway to his bedroom and pushes the door open. Gillian is still in the middle of his bed. The lamps are still on and they cast orange shadows over her naked back, exposed from the angle of the covers she is hugging to her chest. He watches her while he undoes his jeans and slips out of them, dumping them in a pile on the floor. Cal lifts the blanket and scoots in behind her. She stirs a little and gives a sigh as his hand caresses her shoulder. Then it shifts to her back and he presses his palm against her scar. She shifts a little more. "Hey," she greets sleepily.

"Hey," he whispers.

"Where'd you go?"

"Downstairs. Em came home."

Gillian shifts further over until Cal's hand is pressing her to stay in place. He leans over her shoulder. "I told her about us."

"We should get up," she states opening her eyes.

"No she went to a movie."

"Why?"

"To give us space."

"Do we need space?" Gillian asks him lightly, her eyes flickering over to him.

"Perhaps," Cal kisses her shoulder.

"What did Emily say?"

"She said hi," Cal kisses the side of her cheek.

"And?"

"She said she was happy for us."

"Mmm," Gillian hums. She gives a little stretch. Cal takes advantage of that to press himself against her and kiss her ear. "Do you want something?" Gillian asks in a light tone of voice despite the fact she his murmuring.

"Yes," Cal tells her in a low voice.

"Hmm?" Gillian asks.

"I want this," he drops his head to kiss the scar on her back.

"Cal," her voice is a warning.

"I want it as mine. I want you to think about me every time you see it or its cold and it gives you jip."

Gillian is silent and still, her eyes focussing on various points across the room. He kisses the physical mark tenderly again and she gives a little shiver.

"We're making new memories Gill. Good memories. Great, fantastic memories! I want you to forever think about this day and this little mark on your body and associate them with the day we made love for the first time. The day I told you that I love you and we made love together and it was mind-blowing and fantastic and... the best I've ever had."

Gillian turns fully into him suddenly and she watches him with neutral but interested eyes.

"Nothing else is like being with you darling. I love you Gill."

"I love you too," she responds automatically.

"You know I'm in this for the long haul right?"

She nods. And Cal mimics her. "Ok," she tells him in a small voice.

"Ok," Cal repeats watching her face intently.

She leans up off the bed to kiss him and he melts into her. Their kisses turn hungry again and Gillian's arms wrap around his neck. "Do I get something in return?"

"Yes. You can have this," he places his hand over his chest and gives her another sincere expression. "Cos you'll always be _in here_. And I don't even care how unbelievably corny that sounds either," he added sincerely.

"I like this open sharing you a lot."

Cal presses his lips against hers again. "Me too."

**PJ**

_AN: you know, I really enjoyed writing this story. I'm kind of sad that this is the last one but the work load involved is just huge and I don't have the energy or inclination to write them anymore. Cloe helped with title ideas which actually became the summary. I harassed my little brother and sister for the fic title; I was adamant about following tradition: I have not named one of the stories in this series!_

_I say it is the last one because of the amount of work that goes in to it. Perhaps there shall be more in the future. I never say never... but for now, consider it the last unless I get struck down by inspiration. As always, I'm open to ideas. Fleshed out ideas are the best. One line prompts don't tend to trigger much in me. The callian aspect is already taken care of, what I need are case ideas. They're what slow me down and take so much time to plan out... _

_Most shows have five acts. Some have six. I took a liberty with breaking down act five into two parts. So this was written with the original piece but act five just go so long and I thought, why not throw you all off by having a spare chapter? Plus it coincides with the Lie To Me Lives On challenge._

_As always, thank you for reading and thank you for reviewing. It's really nice to see some familiar names sticking around despite the fate of LTM. It's very nice to meet new names too and make new friends! I shall be around for a while at least so I hope to read you around too..._


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